


On Survival

by Blackcat413



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: F/M, Immortality, Implied Relationships, Poetry, Prytter, Spoilers, marcus cutter is his own warning, references to pryce & carter's 1001 tips, set right before they leave before the finale, the cyborg king and queen of florida everybody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22451242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackcat413/pseuds/Blackcat413
Summary: Marcus and Miranda make preparations to board the Sol.
Relationships: Marcus Cutter & Miranda Pryce, Marcus Cutter/Miranda Pryce
Kudos: 13





	On Survival

**Author's Note:**

> I love Prytter and I wanted to pay tribute. Many thanks to @thimbleoflight for writing so much for these two and inspiring me to make some.

On Survival

I’m taking her with me, of course-

I wouldn’t go into space without her

and she wouldn’t without me. She hates

it, actually: it makes her uneasy, although she would rip 

out her hair before admitting it. The product

of all her hard work floating apart in depressurized space

is not a thought she can handle, even though she could just collect my

pieces if that were to happen. I don’t mind space travel;

if I die and she doesn’t, she can just fix me up

and if she dies and I don’t, we’re both dead anyway.

The steps on the Sol come down

and Miranda boards it first. “There’s a certain... 

finality, to boarding a spaceship,” I remark to her.

I say it casually. She is used to that by now. She rolls

her mechanical eyes at “finality” and replies, “Come on, Marcus.”

We’re going up there on an investigation.

Not everyone can just take off

but we can. There’s an order to these things.

And we have little tolerance for disorder- she makes me 

double and triple check the charts before we go.

Even cyborg godhood is jeopardized by a mistake in the map

that could send us careening into void. So I check the charts.

“Remember everything you have forgotten to know,” she says, 

and I hum. “I need to write that down somewhere.”

The joke is in the fact that we’ve said those words before.

The bodies she built for us, smooth-skinned,

such a convincing facsimile of mortality. 

The names she fashioned for me while hers

stayed the same over all these years:

_ Miranda and Matthew, Miranda and William, Miranda and Marcus. _

The eternal, so long as she lives.


End file.
